Posted on August 22nd, 2014

With the extensive coverage the BBC has devoted this month to the 100th Anniversary of the outbreak of the Great War, one can hope that more people now understand just how much a significant and … Read More

Posted on January 27th, 2014

According to the Anglican Church’s Liturgical Calendar, the Christmas season does not finish until the celebration of Candlemass, which this year will be observed on Sun 2nd Feb ’14. So, I feel quite at liberty … Read More

Posted on December 25th, 2013

Increasingly over the last couple of weeks, there have been articles in the national press reminding readers about the Christmas Truce – that brief moment over Christmas 1914 when both British and German troops put … Read More

Posted on September 4th, 2013

I was very taken by a recent article in the Comet (Hitchin Edition) of 15th August, regarding a new Battlefield Memorial to be erected in St Julien, Belgium in honour soldiers of the Hertfordshire Regiment … Read More

Posted on August 13th, 2013

I dispatched my first E-newsletter on the 97th Anniversary of the opening day of the Battle of the Somme, 1st July 2013 although, in its principle article, I chose to focus upon another, earlier battlefield … Read More

Posted on July 1st, 2013

As the next five years of 100th anniversaries of the Great War approaches, writers and their publishers will no doubt be very busy revisiting and reviewing all the many thousands of books which exist already … Read More

Posted on July 1st, 2013

Yesterday having been the 97th anniversary of the opening day of the Battle of the Somme (1st July 1916), Britain’s main attempt during 1916 to dislodge the German army from their strongholds in northern … Read More

Posted on July 1st, 2013

Posted on July 1st, 2013

I am of the Scottish generation for whom Wilfred Owen’s poetry was a core element of both our English and History studies. However, my mother being an English teacher, I had been aware of his … Read More

Oh wow! The above is not a sentence one reads very often in relation to any aspect of the Great War - in fact for most of my readers, probably never? And it is certainly not a sentence that many battlefield guides will utter during a tour! Over the last one hundred years the world has become inured to the idea that the First World War was a useless waste of lives, as ordered by a set of idiot Generals rather too wedded to the tactics of bygone eras and which, over all, achieved nothing ; other than to set the seal on a century of violence with whose ramifications we are still dealing as the 21st century progresses! So, to what then could these eight little words be referring? The answer is........The Battle of Amiens, the absolute 100th anniversary of which was commemorated yesterday with a service of remembrance in that city's lovely Cathedral, and the following last 100 days of the war.

I have to admit that I was surprised at how much media coverage there was ; it started early in the morning with a small mention on Radio 4's 'Today' programme and blossomed into full sections on news channels various - not least because the Duke of Cambridge offered an address. And the general consensus seems to have been that the Battle of Amiens brought the war to an end ; as if, after the surprising success of the first day, the German Army just gave up and ran away until it could be brought to book finally on 11th November 1918. However, those of us who make a study of the war know that that is very far from the truth. True, 8th August 1918 was described by the German General, Erich Ludendorff, as ‘the black day of the German Army’. For, by the end of it, and for the first time since August 1914, the Allied Armies on the Western Front had achieved a spectacular, 8-mile advance into German territory, causing enemy losses of about 27,000 (of whom 12,000 were Prisoners of War) and capturing as many as 450 of the enemy's artillery pieces. And yes, throughout the following 100 days - which takes us up to 11th November 1918 - the German Army was ever retreating. But, all the while, it never stopped putting up a bloody resistance - as the names of those listed by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission as having been killed right up to Armistice Day attest to. Just as, all the while, Haig and his subordinates continued to plan for assaults on the Western Front well into 1919. So what is it about the Battle of Amiens that engendered such a positive observation?

It is, of course, that, in being fought almost four years to the day since war had been declared, at long last allied troops - British, French and American - were able to draw together all the military lessons learned so painfully previously. Planning the battle had fallen to the Commander of the Australian Corps, Lieutenant General Sir John Monash, who had engineered so successfully both the re-taking of the village of Villers-Brettoneux from the Germans in April 1918 and then the Battle of Hamel on 4th July 1918. (There is a case to be made really that the beginning of the end started as early as April 1918 rather than August 1918?) However........ Known as a meticulous planner - in civilian life Monash had been a civil engineer - he had also fought with the ANZAC's throughout the Gallipoli campaign and in command of the 3rd (Australian) Division on the Somme and at Passchendaele. He was well versed therefore in the technological developments that had been taking place and determined not just that each should be used piecemeal but that they should be used effectively in co-ordination. Not for nothing did uniformed personnel yesterday - and the news presenters - refer to contemporaneous accounts of the battle which described infantry moving forward under the cover of their own guns, just behind their own tanks and aware of their own aircraft in the skies above them. Nor indeed that infantrymen reported seeing both tanks and cavalry moving across the horizon. Monash's plan for the Battle of Amiens was that it should demonstrate his belief that infantry should only advance 'under the maximum possible protection of the maximum possible array of mechanical resources, in the form of guns, machine-guns, tanks, mortars and aeroplanes; to advance with as little impediment as possible; to be relieved as far as possible of the obligation to fight their way forward; to march, resolutely, regardless of the din and tumult of battle, to the appointed goal; and there to hold and defend the territory gained; and to gather in the form of prisoners, guns and stores, the fruits of victory.' At long last battle plans were not just co-ordinated, they were 'integrated'.

My title comes from an article written by Alan Judd, which was published in the Daily Telegraph on 31st July 2001! Judd was reviewing Gary Sheffield's then newly-published (and, in my humble opinion, as yet unsurpassed) book, 'Forgotten Victory' ; in the course of which Sheffield sets out to demonstrate that, by 1918, the British Army had become 'the most effective fighting force in the world' and which then 'won the greatest series of battles in British history'! I have few doubts that between now and 11th November 2018, little more mention will be made of the amazing victories which the Allied Armies achieved in the latter part of 1918 until the German Army really was forced to surrender. So I will end by quoting further from Judd's article. In recommending the book he observed that 'the British and Empire armies took the lead and, with a devastating combination of thorough preparation, tactical surprise and all-arms co-ordination, smashed the trench system for good and began to restore mobility to the battlefield.’ He concludes that, ‘In fact, winning was a triumph of military determination, transformation and ingenuity’. ... See MoreSee Less

Listening earlier today to the news reports of how many Eurotunnel trains have had to be cancelled over the last 24 hrs because of current extreme weather conditions - exacerbated by broken air-conditioning – and how traffic is building up around the terminus in Folkestone as a result, I am once more both amazed and very grateful for the fact that yet another Great War Tour has been accomplished without incident! For just exactly a week ago, over 19th / 20th July, I lead my latest tour to the little village of Fromelles where, one hundred and two years ago i.e. in July 1916, the Australian Imperial Force suffered what stands still as Australia's greatest military loss ever : 5,500 troops killed, wounded or missing within the twenty four hours that the battle raged.

I have written about the Battle of Fromelles – or what the enemy called the Battle of Fleurbaix – at least twice before. Because, apart from it involving the men of the Australia New Zealand Army Corps (in whom you know I have an abiding interest), it was just as disastrous and costly a battle for the British troops involved. And, in being considered a bit of a side show to the main Battle of the Somme, it is more than a little overlooked in the annals of battlefield guides. Indeed, were it not for the sad fact that most of the Australian casualties were not retrieved from the battlefield - so that for many a long year the memorial known as VC Corner, just outside the village, has been all that remained to tell their story – I am sure that the battle would have faded into the background of the overall tapestry of the war?

The wonderful discovery in 2009 of the original German burial pits at Pheasant Wood – which was within their strongly held territory – brought the story of this battle and these men to the forefront once again. And since the opening of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission’s newest cemetery at Pheasant Wood – built specially to hold the re-discovered remains – there has been an annual commemoration. Barely a year has not also included the unveiling of newly dedicated and named headstones, as the scientific process of matching harvested DNA from relatives in Australia with the carefully stored remains recovered from the pits continues. And last week was no exception : nine (9) more headstones were unveiled by family members who had made the long trek half-way across the world to honour their fallen.

As my companion does not have any Australian ancestry – to the best of my knowledge – the focus of the tour was to experience the special commemoration ceremony. And, as I started this article by observing, thank goodness it was last week and not this : it was plenty hot enough nevertheless and the surrounding countryside was burnt to as much of a crisp cinder as is our countryside at the moment! But, in guiding her through the events of those malevolent 24 hours, not only did we take a look at both the VC Corner Memorial and the ‘Don’t Forget Me Cobber’ memorial statue, we also took the opportunity to look at the cemetery known as Le Trou Aid Post.

As a battlefield guide, I am not sure that I should admit to having one rather more favourite Commonwealth War Graves Commission cemetery over any other – especially as, although I have visited a few, there is a whole world of them still to visit which goal would take the rest of my life to achieve? But….. one at the very top of my list would have to be Le Trou Aide Post, just outside the village of Fromelles. If it is remotely acceptable to describe such a place as ‘chocolate-boxy’ or worthy as a jigsaw puzzle picture, then at least that is better than hearing a cemetery described as ‘a camping ground of the dead’ : which I have spent much of the last week shaking my head over in horror? But there is no doubt that it is a beautiful little place and a marvellous resting place for some of the only very few ANZAC’s who were able to crawl away from the maelstrom that was the attack on the German salient otherwise known as ‘Sugarloaf’. That they still succumbed to their wounds does not detract from the beauty of the place ; so at odds with the disaster which was unfolding all around them as they suffered.

A wretched, hybrid scheme’, was how the Australian General, “Pompey” Elliott described the Battle of Fromelles, when he delivered a lecture to the Canberra branch of the Returned Sailors and Soldiers Imperial League of Australia (RSSILA) in July 1930. Exactly fourteen years after the battle itself had been fought, it is clear that his memories of that dreadful day had in no way been dimmed ; even before it had begun Elliott had written, ‘I confess I have very great doubts as to whether the attack can be a success’! Not only that, he had lobbied hard with his superior commanders that the battle should be delayed – to enable his troops to learn just a little more about trench warfare on the Western Front : notwithstanding their experience of trench warfare on the Gallipoli Peninsular. Pompey – a nickname given by his troops who were devoted to him – took no joy from having been proved right and there is little doubt that the loss of so many of his men played a significant role in his taking his own life. Buried with full military honours on 25th March 1931, the ultimate irony of course is that the very same battle which had caused him such mental anguish had denied any kind of burial or named gravestone to so many of his men. Whether an extra hour, day or even a week would have made any difference to the final outcomes, I have a sneak suspicion that Pompey would much rather have been buried either in Le Trou Aid Post or had his name inscribed on the VC Corner Memorial? ... See MoreSee Less

Those of my readers who are also linked with me via my personal Facebook page will recall that, exactly a week ago, I went to see the opera ‘Nabucco’ at the Verona Arena ; and was most discomfited to realise that, in translating the background from Old Testament Babylon to 19th century Italy, the opera had been hi-jacked by Italy’s nascent right-wing nationalism / anti-immigration stance. Except that such nationalism in Italy cannot be described as ‘nascent’ ; rather it should be described as being ‘rejuvenated’. Because, although Adolf Hitler was beginning to be noticed around the world for his violent nationalism by late 1922 – barely four years after the end of the Great War - by that point Benito Mussolini had been elected democratically as Italy’s Prime Minister. When considering National Socialism these days, in the light of the genocide which Hitler’s regime visited upon vast swathes of Europe, it is hardly surprising that Germany is reckoned as the seat of Nazism. In fact it began in Italy!

When asked to list the countries which allied themselves against the German and Austro-Hungarian Empires between 1914-1918, many people would not offer Italy – not least because, in the earliest days of the war, it had allied itself with the Central Powers. However, in 1915, under the Treaty of London, Italy executed a complete about face and, in the hope of both wresting some territory from Austria and being given a seat at the victory conference table, began assaulting the Austrians. Although fought at high altitude, over mountainous countryside and in extremely cold conditions, what has since become known as the First Battle of Isonzo (June 1915) very soon degenerated into the sort of stalemate, trench warfare which was blooming over both the better known Western and Eastern Fronts. But whilst the Gallipoli Campaign became a by-word for disastrous military ambition, whilst the Middle East became the backdrop for the romance of Lawrence of Arabia (and the disaster that is at the root of continuing troubles in the region today) and the Serbian Front harvested a huge casualty figure because of disease (malaria), the Italian Front just simmered gently. Until, that is, Lloyd George – as Britain’s Prime Minister by 1917 – became convinced that most senior British military commanders were wasting manpower unnecessarily and plotted to prevent them planning too many more major assaults on the Western Front : by diverting essential manpower and military materiel to the Italian Front. Which is why, by November 1917, Captain Edward Brittain MC, of 11th Battalion, Sherwood Foresters (Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire Regiment) found himself fighting on the Asiago Plateau.

Edward’s ambition as he left Uppingham School was to gain his degree at Oxford, perhaps seek a career within the Indian Civil Service and, if he was very lucky, also enjoy a career as a musician - as both a violinist and composer. As his sister Vera attended his last prize-giving day at the school, during which he took part in a parade of the school’s Officer Training Corps, neither had any idea that instead he had ‘a rendezvous with death’? But not before, having applied for his commission within a month of war being declared, he survived his battalion’s taking part in the opening day of the Battle of the Somme (1st July 1916) – during which he was badly injured in both thigh and arm and for which he would receive the Military Cross because of his bravery in continuing to towards the enemy’s trenches despite his injuries. Then, once ready for active service again, he re-joined his battalion as it took part in the darkest days of the Battle of Passchendaele. Having spent so much of her time being fearful for his safety – given that by November 1917 only herself and Edward remained alive of their closest group of friends from that halcyon day at Uppingham in July 1914 – Vera was relieved to learn that he was off to Italy! And indeed, at least initially the Italian front remained quiet – not least because the Italian’s themselves had been vanquished by the Austrian’s at Caporetto. But, not least because of the support offered by Lloyd George’s diversionary tactics, the Italian’s were able to launch a new attack on the Austrian front ; on the same day that the Austrian’s themselves had decided to re-new their attack on the Italian’s. Caught very much in that cross fire, Captain Brittain was shot in the head by an enemy sniper just after he had led his men to regain a stretch of trench from which they had been dislodged in the ferocity of the opening assault.

Some of you will know that one of the first seeds of my interest in the Great War were sown by my primary school teacher in Lae, Papua New Guinea, after whose very biased account of the Gallipoli Landings at ANZAC Cove on 25th April 1915 – biased because it lauded only the ANZAC’s when, in fact, the British and French had an important part to play too on that first day – I became determined to visit those dreadful shores. I achieved that goal finally in January 2013. Equally, since I found Vera Brittain’s acclaimed early autobiography, ‘Testament of Youth’ on my grandmother’s bookshelves - in the first days after my miserable return to UK from PNG in the late summer of 1973 - I have been determined that, one day, I would make a pilgrimage to her brother’s grave : ‘Testament of Youth’ is dedicated to both her brother, Edward Brittain, and her finance, Roland Leighton, both of whom were killed in the war. Over the last few years I have visited Roland Leighton’s grave several times, as I have the Memorial to the Missing in Arras where another of her close friends, Geoffrey Thurlow, has his name inscribed in memory. But, in visiting Verona last week, I was as close to the Asiago Plateau that I could be. So, just a little over the centenary anniversary of his death – 15th June 1918 – I hired a car and set off to find his grave.

Vera made her pilgrimage to both of these graves during the late summer of 1921 by which time, so she noted in her book, battlefield tours were becoming increasingly popular : and by which time the Imperial War Graves Commission had more than got to grips with the design and layout of the cemeteries with which we are so familiar today. So, the grave which I encountered last week is almost exactly that which she first saw, onto which she laid some rosebuds and into which she planted ‘a small asparagus fern in a pot’, which she hoped would survive the mountain climate. As I hope you will see from the photograph, not only did I place my own tribute to Edward on his grave : but, on learning from the one bulletin board placed at the side of the road where I parked my trusty steed that Vera herself had asked to have her ashes interred with Edward upon her death in 1970, I also laid my copy of her famous book on the grave in tribute to her. ... See MoreSee Less

I am not very good at some of the more technical aspects of uploading photographs onto Face book but earlier today I did manage to change both the cover and profile photographs on this page : not least because it is almost a year since I last did but also because, last week whilst on my latest tour, I became aware of how amazing the many roses were that I came across in the various locations which the tour visited. Great War Tours are conducted irrespective of weather conditions - after all, our soldiers did not have an alternative 'wet-weather' programme against which to work. But generally, very luckily, I have encountered bad weather only rarely. On this last tour however, not only was the weather almost perfect but I really noticed the amazing scent of the roses found in the various locations visited and the constant, low-level buzzing of the bees as they darted around. And then, at the last location, I re-found a grave whose epitaph has always intrigued me and which I have never forgotten.

'The rose that climbed our garden wall has bloomed the other side', to my mind, is unashamedly both grieving and romantic and very different from the more usual, very buttoned-up, stiff upper lip epitaphs which one reads more commonly i.e. 'Gone but not forgotten', 'Greater Love hath no Man', 'Rest in Peace' and even 'Dulce et Decorum est pro Patria mori'? Research shows that the quote is a derivation from a poem called, 'The Rose beyond the wall', by A. L. Frink. Roses, of course, are not only flowers laden with funereal symbolism - white roses for innocence and youthfulness, red ones for love and courage and pink ones for grace whilst the song, 'Roses of Picardy' - first published in 1916 - speaks with tremendous pathos of the heartbreak caused when romantic love is cut short by death : really, it is quite surprising how popular the song became with our soldiers! The context of the quote therefore is reasonably correct although, from the moment I first read it several years ago, I felt that it had been chosen by a grieving mother which makes the emotional / romantic tone most interesting. Having taken the photograph last week, I determined to see if I could uncover the 'story' behind this young man and his grave?

Leslie Stuart Wilkinson, known familiarly as 'Roger', was born on 11th February 1898 and educated at Lancing College, where he also served as a Private within the College's Officer Training Corps. His record within the National Archive at Kew suggests that he completed his education in 1913 but does not record what kind of profession / job he then took up. But, just before his 17th birthday in February 1915, his father (Richard) counter-signed his application for a Commission to serve as an Officer with 4th Battalion, The Bedfordshire Regiment. Although the family appears to have been living in London at the time of the application, there must have been a connection with Bedfordshire as the application is also counter-signed by the Battalion's Commanding Officer, who also provided a recommendation as to Leslie's character! Given that servicemen were not supposed to go on operational service overseas until they had attained their 19th birthday's, part of the pathos of this loss is that Second Lieutenant Wilkinson was still only 18 years old when he died on 21st November 1916. I am not forgetting that Rudyard Kipling's son, John, also died before his 19th birthday in September 1915 but, by 1916, the Government had been hauled over the coals by the numbers of really young men who had been able to enlist in the early days of the war and the recruiting regulations had become more strictly controlled. Perhaps, as the Battle of the Somme was being drawn to a close that month, having racked up a total 420,000 casualties, the Regiment was not in a position to be too picky when called upon to serve ; 4th Battalion was mobilised in late July 1916? The War Diary records that, at 0645 hrs on the morning of 13th November 1916, the Battalion advanced towards enemy trenches to the front of a sector between Beaumont Hamel and the north bank of the River Ancre. The attacking troops sustained heavy casualties between the enemy's front and second line trenches because of a strong point which had been passed over by the leading brigades!

Roger's file contains copies of the three telegrams which his father received advising him that, on 13th November 1916, his son had been wounded with severe gunshot wounds to his left leg and shoulder ; that on 19th November permission had been granted for him to visit his son and then, lastly, that at 1710 hrs on 21st November 1916, (presumably before either of his parents had arrived in France), Roger had died of his wounds within 20th General Hospital, Camiers. In due course a letter was received from the Directorate of War Graves Registration confirming that 2Lt L S Wilkinson had been buried at Etaples Military Cemetery where his grave was 'marked by a durable wooden cross with an inscription bearing full particulars'. Clearly the epitaph was not chosen until the original grave marker was changed to the Portland Marble stone which stands today.

Unfortunately, the personal file does not contain any correspondence regarding the epitaph. However, my feeling that it was chosen by his mother (Margaret) was given further weight when I discovered that, at the time of their son's death, Richard and Margaret were living separately and that they were each in contact with the War Office separately ; chasing down whatever funds were still due to his service account! Indeed, the War Office wrote to Margaret advising her that 'as the late 2Lt L.S. Wilkinson died a bachelor and intestate, his estate is, under the Law of Intestacy, the property of his father with whom this department is already in communication'. At the distance of 102 years, I recoiled in horror as I read that piece of malicious correspondence, conserved so carefully. And the sadness was deepened further when the list of personal belongings which would have been returned to the family in due course listed both French and Belgian coins, a pipe with a twill case and an Ingersoll watch - with broken glass! Whilst registering the list with more than a degree of sadness - at how little Leslie had left behind for his parents to fight over as his estate - I was aware that at least his mother was spared the horror of having his uniform, bearing every sign of the wounds he had sustained, returned to her ; famously this is what happened to Roland Leighton's mother following his death on 23rd December 1915. His fiance, Vera Brittain, had to pour hot water onto a small patch of garden in order to be able to bury the dreadful material!

As if the discovery of these pieces of information were not bad enough - and remember I had been searching for some confirmation that the epitaph had been chosen by a grieving mother - the piece de resistance came in a form of a letter sent from the Junior Army & Navy Stores, York House, 45, Regent Street dated 12th December 1916 - barely a month after Roger's death. This was the store asking the War Office for details of 2Lt Wilkinson's next of kin in order that they might 'obtain settlement of an account for military equipment supplied'. Thankfully, the War Office did not oblige and sent an equally blunt note back saying that it never divulged next of kin details!

If I am very clever I might just be able to attach to this post some of the other roses which I encountered last week ; at the Belgian Cemetery in Ramskapelle, at Tyne Cot and at the American National Military Cemetery at Bony (just south of the Somme). But, whilst it is ironic that there isn't a rose bush planted by the side of Lt Wilkinson's grave within Etaples Military Cemetery, he will forever remain my 'Rose of Picardy'. ... See MoreSee Less